Darkness
by HighonTV
Summary: Danny Messer wakes up with a throbbing head ache in cold January winter temperatures, not knowing where he is.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1: In the Dark**

A sudden noise. It must have been a noise that had woken him, at least that was the only thing Danny could remember in the moments his mind wasn't foggy. He felt a painful throbbing sensation in his head, something like a major headache after a long night spend in the clubs of New York. But Danny couldn't remember having gone clubbing the day before.

He tried to lift his head, but a nauseate feeling caused by major dizziness forced him to keep still. Danny tried to wake up, to fight the gaps in his memory and to get full consciousness of where he was. He realized his body wasn't in its normal position on a Wednesday morning, he was in contrast sitting up straight.

Danny breathed slowly for a minute trying with all his strength to think of what was going on. His breaths made white clouds in the dark sky, and although the young CSI couldn't see it, he definitely felt the cold, wearing only a light jacket and a pear of jeans. The cold had started to creep under his skin and he shivered. "Relax Danny" he told himself in a whisper trying to calm down, while trying to open his eyes. Slowly his heavy eyes obeyed the repeated commands to open. Darkness. Danny closed his eyes again, the experience was exactly the same. Open again. Darkness with a little ray of light right under his left eye. Danny's mind was racing to understand what was going on. Going over all the experiences, the headache, the dizziness, the darkness and the odd position it suddenly hit him. A panic spread through his body and Danny, filled with a terrifying feeling which he hoped would prove false, tried hard to make both his arms and legs obey the commands his mind was giving them. Almost instantly Danny realized this was a battle his limbs couldn't win. A cold feeling reached both his wrists and he could clearly hear a familiar sound, the sound of something he was used to hearing, the sound of his own cuffs.

Danny sighed and tried to lift his head again, ignoring the pain and nausea. He inhaled the cold fresh air and sat there for a moment with his head tilted back, motionless, cuffed and blindfolded, realizing he'd probably made some huge mistake the night before. Clearing his mind and trying to understand what had happened, he suddenly heard the same loud noise again, that woke him up several minutes before. In terror Danny lowered his head immediately, but instantly regretted doing that, for he felt the entire room spinning around him and the overwhelming nausea almost made him throw up. Luckily Danny wasn't quite unfamiliar with feelings of terror and nausea, he had gone over the theory of how to react in a terrifying situation, many times. This was different however, he couldn't imagine what he might have done the day before that would end up like this.

The noise again. Danny tried hard to recognize it, when suddenly a loud bang close by broke the silence in the room he was in. A door was opened and shut with a huge amount of force. The next thing Danny could hear were slow and heavy footsteps on what sounded to him like a wooden floor. 'This person must be a really big guy, being able to make a sound like that' Danny thought with a frightened feeling growing inside.

The unidentified person stopped somewhere close to Danny making no noise besides his loud breathing. Danny felt his heart increasing its speed with the growing uneasiness he was in. Waiting for what was going to happen he tried not to let the man know he was awake. Danny had put his head back down, his chin resting on his chest which gave him an aching pain in his overstretched neck, but he wasn't going to give in to the pain. After what seemed like hours two bright flashes blinded Danny and unintended made him move his hands, making a loud sound with the cuffs in the quiet room. He hold still immediately afterwards, but he couldn't stop his heart from pounding loudly, he felt as though the sound of his heartbeat could be heard a mile away. The guard, however, didn't seem to notice either the sudden movement of his 'unconscious' victim's hands or the beating of Danny's heart, and he left soon after the flashes with the same loud footsteps, closing the door a little more subtle this time. Leaving Danny all alone again. Alone in the cold January temperatures, without giving any hints to him about where he was.

CSI

Lindsay hesitated, she had been wanting to go to Mac earlier but decided it wasn't the best move to ask it already at 10 AM. She stood right next to the coffee machine, with an extra-large cappuccino in her hand, stirring slowly staring at one spot right in front of her.

"Girls who stare are in love!" Flack's happy voice sounded loud and clear on the early Wednesday morning in the overly quiet CSI lab. He walked towards Lindsay, taking his coat off, swinging it over his arm. "Get that smirk of your face Don" Lindsay replied with a tiny smile on her face. Although Flack wasn't really her kind of guy, he could always make her laugh at the most surprising moments. "What's up" he asked while looking for his wallet to pay for the coffee he poured from the machine. Lindsay couldn't help her face turning away from the tall detective. "Nothing" she said flatly "Just a bit tired I guess". Flack pushed the buttons on the coffee machine without looking at Lindsay, "Oh, been clubbing?". Lindsay almost chuckled at his remark, the thought of her going clubbing in a city she barely knew was almost as ridiculous as telling Flack why she really acted the way she did. "Naah" she replied "Neighbors were having a party… A private party" she added quickly when she saw Flack's smirk returning. "Too bad" he said while taking a sip from his coffee "You really should try to integrate in the city you know. Hang out with some guys, enjoy life a little." Lindsay smiled uncomfortably "I'm fine" she said "er, I should really get to work, Mac wouldn't want us to talk all day long" and with these words she turned and walked towards the lab leaving Flack all alone with his coffee.

Walking towards one of the labs made Lindsay realize it was probably for the best to either tell someone about her worries or to ask her boss for an explanation. She passed Mac's office and hesitated, her face to the floor to prevent making eye contact with whomever was in Mac's office. She sighed, turned and decided to ask anyway, there was nothing to loose.

A silent knock on the glass door marked her entrance in Mac's office. The senior CSI seemed to have spend the night in the office, based on the fact that he looked up from his paperwork with a certain fatigue look in his eyes. "What is it?" he asked directly. Lindsay hesitated again, but stepped into his office, closing the door behind her. "Do you have any idea where Danny is? Did he call in sick or something?" she asked as lightly as she could. She certainly didn't want Mac to suspect that her feelings for the young male were more than just a colleague friendship. Mac leaned back in his chair and surveyed Lindsay for a moment. "I haven't heard from him since he left the office yesterday, just as usual, why?" he asked in return. Lindsay started to move her hands uncomfortably, realizing Mac, watchful as he was, would probably notice instantly. "Well, it's passed 10 AM now" Lindsay started "usually he's here at 9, I just thought he might have called in sick. It's not that I cannot work on that case alone" she added hastily "I'm just, I don't know, curious why Danny's not here yet" she ended. Mac leaned forward again bending over his paperwork "He'll be fine, he probably overslept and will be here in about an hour." He said to comfort the girl "It's nothing unusual, Danny has a habit of not hearing his alarm clock at times he's supposed to." Mac got a few files from his desk and opened them "In the meantime, I want you to take a look at this case" he said while handing the file over to Lindsay "it isn't a new case, but I thought you might want to take a look at it, since you're new here. Maybe you have some new, fresh ideas about it". Lindsay reluctantly got the file from Mac's hands and opened it, her eyes were immediately drawn to the horrifying pictures of the victim. She closed the file again and looked at Mac once more. "Don't worry about Danny, he'll be here in no time, now get to work" the senior CSI said. Lindsay reluctantly obeyed and walked out of the office carrying the old file.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm very determined to finish this fic, although it might take a while, I definitely want to finish it, so not to worry! Please note that I'm not an American and I've never been to New York or the States, so some things might be a little inaccurate, don't hate me for that._

**CHAPTER 2**

11 AM, still no sign of Danny Messer at the CSI office in downtown New York. Lindsay was working on the unsolved case but clearly couldn't focus, even the slightly inexperienced Hawkes could see that. He had been watching the girl from the moment she left Mac's office with that weird expression on her face. The following hour he could clearly see her concentration slipping away every five minutes. Her gaze wasn't on the evidence and the pictures, most of the time it was on her hands or on the table a few inches in front of the file. She sighed, put the documents back in the file and got up, determined not to let everybody see how uncomfortable she was. She smiled at Hawkes before leaving the lab.

"Hey girl!" Lindsay sighed, this wasn't the time for Flack to make weird remarks about anything concerning her. "Hey Don" she said kindly, while continuing to walk. "Mac just asked me to help you with that old case, he wants us to go to the crime scene again." Flack said with a smile on his face. Lindsay suddenly stopped and looked at Flack with a surprised expression on her face. "But I should be working with Danny on that new case, he can be here any second now" she said in objection to Mac's decision. Flack put his hands in the air "Hey, it's not my decision" he said in defense "Messer's probably late again, and Mac probably wants him to work on it alone" Flack suggested. Lindsay thought about Flack's suggestion for a while and decided that it could be a possible move of Mac to punish Danny in this way for his misbehavior. She nodded in acceptance and looked at the tall detective "Your car or mine?" she said with a tiny smile. "Mine, definitely mine" Flack answered with a huge grin on his face "I'll show you some New York driving style." Lindsay smiled again and followed Flack to the lockers, where they put on their coats.

"So, do you ever go out here?" Lindsay asked with a sideward glance while she put on some warm gloves. Flack smiled but stayed quiet and didn't answer the question. "Come on" Lindsay said trying to force Flack to answer her question. "You've been telling me about going out and integrating in the city for weeks now. You're not going to tell me you don't go out now are you?" she said defiant. Flack looked up to the ceiling and chuckled "I'll tell you all about it when we're in the car, now move on Monroe."

New York traffic wasn't anything like Montana, Lindsay still had to adjust to her new environment and couldn't help but making remarks at all the unusual things she laid her eyes on, thereby entertaining Flack who knew New York traffic just a little to well. "OMG, look at that guy over there" Lindsay said with a childish enthusiasm "How high can your heels be when you're a transvestite." Flack chuckled, he wasn't even surprised to see sights like that, he knew all New Yorkers had some sort of crazy second life. "You still haven't seen half of it" he said with his eyes fixed on the road "we've had some really fucked up cases last year. I still can't believe what people are capable of, what their minds are capable of producing." He shivered for a moment and glanced sideward at Lindsay, "this case isn't any different" he said. Lindsay looked straight forward "You know, Montana isn't as easy as you guys might think it is" she snapped at the tall detective "I've seen some pretty bad things myself too." To avoid having an argument Flack decided to keep quiet, and the car filled with "Killing me Softly" from the Fugees which was playing on the local radio station.

After a quiet half an hour which was almost surreal they arrived at the old crime scene, in the middle of a deserted former industrial area. The cold wind was blowing firmly between the high buildings. "This place gives me the creeps" Lindsay said while grabbing her kit from the back of the car. "Well it ain't the Hilton, that's true" Flack said "but for criminals, it's paradise." Lindsay saw with one look at the buildings what Flack meant. If you wanted to kill, rape or abuse someone, you'd best do it here. No chance there will be unwanted witnesses, a scary atmosphere for your victim will add to the thrill and if you're really lucky your crime wouldn't even be found by the NYPD.

"Let's get it started" Lindsay said quasi happily, walking towards the backdoor of the building, Flack right behind her. "So were you here the last time they investigated this" Lindsay asked opening the door and taking a look inside. They entered a huge hall, which probably had been filled with machines half a decade earlier. "Yes, I was" Flack answered shivering to keep his body warm from the cold January wind "I remember Mac being obsessive about this case, wanting to solve it no matter what." "Look it's right over there" Flack said pointing at the other side of the hall where a medium-velocity blood spatter could still be seen. Walking towards the former crime scene Lindsay couldn't help but thinking what an awful place this must be to die in. "According to what I heard from Mac those days, the perp stabbed our vic twelve times with some sort of knife, and afterwards he shot him in the head." Lindsay looked at Flack in horror "you mean the guy was still alive after those twelve stabs?." Flack shrugged his shoulders "Dunno, we never found out. It's either that, or the perp really had some major issues with the vic."

Lindsay sighed and opened her kit removing her warm gloves and replacing them with the sterile cold ones used by the CSI's. "Looking at the pattern of the blood spatter on the wall, I'm thinking the victim was still standing when he got stabbed. Medium-velocity blood spatter is usually caused by stab wounds. I don't see any high-velocity blood spatter, so the perp shot the vic after he fell to the ground. He must have landed on the ground somewhere between the stabs and the shooting." She pointed at two clear dark patterns on the floor. "Here's the first pool of blood, probably from the stabs, and there's the second one, smaller, from the head wound."

Flack got the file from Lindsay's bag and started looking at the different pictures of the victim. "Yeah, you're right" he said, holding the pictures in front of Lindsay "But this doesn't make any sense" he added pointing at a fourth dark spot on the floor. "They couldn't do any DNA tests on the blood, somehow it was too old." Lindsay sighed, "Well, there's nothing here to investigate" she said closing her kit again "except for the blood spatters there's nothing here." She grabbed her tiny flash light just to be sure she didn't miss any obvious evidence. "We'd better get out of here if that's the case, I'm freezing" Flack said impatiently, already starting to walk to the door. "I'll be there in a minute" Lindsay said "You can wait in the car if you like." Flack gladly took this offer and quickly started walking to his car, where he turned up the heat with a sigh of relief. Lindsay followed several minutes after him, her frustration could clearly be seen on her face. "Let's get back to the office" she said grumpy "Danny'll be there right about now, so we can work on that other case." Flack grinned at her grumpy tone and started the car, ready to make the journey back to downtown Manhattan.

CSI – Crime Scene Investigation

Unsolved cases had always tormented the spare time of detective Mac Taylor. Wasting several hours on a daily basis working on the cases without moving forward didn't do much good to his night rest. He recently started to feel it, besides from the fact that his co-workers had already seen it weeks ago. "You look tired Mac" "When was the last time you slept" "Wow, someone needs some sleep", remarks that were almost a daily routine when his colleagues arrived at the office. Today was no exception to that, Mac had noticed Lindsay looking at his weary eyes and Stella had already made a remark about it at 9 AM. Mac looked at the cases in front of him, his gaze on a two year old case involving a poor Latino man from The Bronx. He stared at the evidence like he had done so many times, hoping that maybe some day he would get a prompting that would put a whole new light on the case. Mac sighed and put the file aside, looking at his watch he realized it was near lunch time. He got up, grabbed his coat, ready to go out for lunch when he remembered the slightly panicked Lindsay visiting his office earlier that morning. He realized he hadn't seen Danny arriving at the office yet, and sat back down grabbing his cell phone to hear what was going on. Dialing Danny's number Mac was considering several reasons why his talented CSI wasn't at the office yet and hadn't called in sick. Waiting for Danny to pick up the phone Mac could see through the glass walls of his office that both Flack and Lindsay had returned from their visit to the former crime scene. After waiting a while for Danny to answer his phone Mac got his voicemail "Fuck" he said in frustration, cutting the call.

Mac got up and walked quickly to Flack who was just heading for the lunchroom on the other side of the office. "Don, you have a minute?" Mac yelled at Flack. The dark haired detective stopped, turned and nodded looking curiously at Mac. "What's up" he said. "Do you know where Danny could be?" Mac asked directly looking straight at Don. Flack shook his head and took a bite from his sandwich "'s Ok I eat?" he asked with his mouth already half full. Mac nodded "Danny should've been here 3 hours ago. I can't seem to reach him on his cell and there's no reason why he would be this late and don't notify me." Flack nodded in agreement, "What do you want me to do?" he asked. Mac hesitated, it wasn't his style to check upon his staff the minute they didn't show up at work, but something made him feel uneasy about this situation. "Just stop by his house after lunch, see if he's there. Just to be sure." Flack nodded again "What if he ain't there?" he asked in return. "Let's assume that's not the case" Mac said encouraging "just check it, ok?" "I'm on it, Mac" Flack replied. "Great" Mac said relieved and he turned to go back to his office, have lunch there instead of outside, he suddenly didn't feel like going out anymore.

CSI – Crime Scene Investigation

It had to be near midday Danny thought, looking at the ray of light under his left eye and feeling the temperature rising a little. He never was the most observant CSI of his team, no way he could ever beat the overly observant Mac Taylor. That guy just had the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox, being able to see everything and connect the most illogical things with each other, and by doing that solving the most difficult cases. But even the most inexperienced person could feel that the pain and the cold Danny endured at the moment were caused by spending hours in the same position in freezing temperatures. Danny coughed raucously feeling his throat go soar each time he inhaled the icy air around him. His team hopefully already reported him missing, at least that's what Danny expected. He could only imagine what a shock they would get when they found out that he wasn't at home. What would they think, what would they do? How were they going to find him. If he relied on his hearing he could clearly conclude that he wasn't anywhere near the CSI office. Downtown Manhattan was always noisy, cars honking, people chatting, police sirens, but he hadn't heard anything here in the time he was awake. It was almost un-New York like quiet at the place he was kept. The only sounds he heard were muffled voices coming from a room near by, he assumed these people were the ones that had somehow captured him for some unknown reason. Danny shivered again. At least he still was in the northern part of the country, the cold hadn't reached many other states yet.

He had to find a way to clarify all this. It didn't make any sense, why he was here, why he hadn't heard what was going on yet. Something was terribly wrong. Danny's head was still painful but his mind was as clear as could be. His first thoughts were of the CSI in Las Vegas who had been buried alive a while ago. He considered that plot for a while, but couldn't figure out why someone would do something exactly like that to him. This was different from the case in Las Vegas. This was personal, they kept him close by, probably to enjoy the thrill of having control over a NY law enforcer, cuffed and blindfolded, or to use him for some purpose later on. Danny immediately felt the nausea coming back again. What were they going to do to him? He hadn't thought about it so far. He had been too busy figuring out how he got here and where this 'here' actually was that he hadn't considered the fact that he was probably kept here for a reason. Danny swallowed, tasting some blood that had come from a wound on his lip. Whatever that reason was, it wasn't anything he thought he wanted to know.

The cuffs around his wrists had already taken over his body temperature, which was now about one degree below the usual temperature, and the ropes around his ankles didn't hurt as much as they had done when he first woke up. He assumed they got numb from the cold and the tight ropes cutting of the blood running to his feet. There had to be some changes in his situation fast, or else he would suffer from dehydration and his low body temperature would probably cause unconsciousness in a matter of hours, followed by death not long afterwards.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the nice and inspiring reviews…Sorry, it took a while before I updated again…I've revised this chapter like millions of times, and I'll probably end up revising and editing it again, there's something that makes me edit this chapter over and over again and I don't know what it is…_

_Anyway, enjoy this new chapter…it will probably take a while before I've finished chapter 4, since the second semester has begun and my teachers are constantly giving new essay and research assignments…but I will finish this.._

**CHAPTER 3**

After lunch Flack notified Lindsay immediatelyabout the situation. The worried look on her face was something he hadn't expected from the young female CSI. Stella, on the other hand, had a very casual reaction; just like Mac she couldn't think of a reason why Danny wouldn't be at home.

Flack's feelings were somewhere in between. Although he couldn't think of a reason why Danny hadn't shown up yet, he just wouldn't believe he wasn't at his apartment at this moment.

Traffic was increasingly getting worse; earlier that day Flack could drive almost non-stop to his destination, at midday almost half of New York was stuck in traffic.

It was half past two, and Mac had already called twice, which started to freak Flack out. It wasn't Taylor's style to be so overly concerned. He turned up the volume of the radio. "Time is Running Out" by Muse blasted through the speakers.

Flack sighed, he had hoped he would be able to clear his head a little from all the fuzz that was going on about Danny's sudden "disappearance", but instead he was constantly coming up with theories as to why Danny hadn't called anyone yet. Flack had already tried to call his friend several times since Mac gave him the order to check up on him. Voicemail over and over again.

It started to worry Flack, like it wasn't something for Mac to check up on his staff, it also wasn't Danny's style to stay away from work without any information on his whereabouts.

After what seemed like hours Flack finally arrived in Danny's neighborhood. Looking for a safe parking spot, he decided he probably wouldn't be out too long and parked the large SUV in front of Danny's apartment building.

The tall detective got out of his car, closing his long coat to block the cold wind that was blowing around the high buildings. Flack pushed one of the doorbells on the outside of the building. No reply. Flack pushed the button again. Still no reply. He shrugged his shoulders and pushed against the door, which opened pretty easily.

"Why bother having doorbells on the outside of the building if the door's open?" Flack muttered while getting in the elevator and pushing the button for the sixth floor.

The building seemed empty when Flack reached the sixth floor and stepped out of the elevator. No sign of neighbors or Danny whatsoever. He knocked on the door of Danny's apartment, already knowing that his friend would probably not be in there. Don waited several minutes, repeatedly knocking on the door. The unanswered knocks gave the New York detective a very bad feeling, and after almost fifteen minutes he finally gave up and grabbed his cell to call Mac Taylor.

"What do you mean, he's not there?" Mac said in an almost angry voice through the phone. "He's supposed to be there, where else could he be?"

"Exactly what I thought, but there's no sign of Messer here," Flack replied. "What should I do now, Mac?" he continued, "I could try to ask around, maybe someone here knows where he went or where he is now."

There was a short moment of silence. "Yeah, you go do that," Mac finally said. "I'll take Stella and Lindsay with me and we'll be there as soon as possible."

Flack nodded, knowing Mac couldn't see it and hung up.

Questioning the neighbors sounded easier than it eventually turned out to be. Most of the people didn't even want to talk to the tall detective, keeping their door as closed as possible. "We don't know that guy," was the most commonly heard argument for not knowing what happened to their neighbor. Luckily, there were still some people willing to give more information, but nothing useful. Most of them hadn't heard anything the day before or noticed anything unusual.

Flack sighed and thanked the last female neighbor after questioning her. She smiled and closed the door again. Flack looked at his notepad, realizing that Danny probably hadn't been in an argument with someone, and if something terrible had happened to him, it most definitely didn't happen here in his apartment.

Mac, Stella and Lindsay arrived when Flack was about to call them again.

"Sorry, traffic is horrible at this time a day," Mac explained. "So, have you found out anything?"

Flack shook his head "Nothin'. If something happened, it didn't happen here."

Mac looked at the undisturbed door of Danny's apartment.

"What do you guys say, would Danny mind if we took a peek?" Mac asked, flashing his light at the door, and looking at his colleagues. Not waiting for an answer, Mac already walked to Danny's door and started working on the lock. Lindsay and Stella exchanged looks but kept quiet, both too worried to object to Mac's decision.

The lock wasn't too hard to open, Mac cracked it within two minutes and pushed against it, entering Danny's deserted apartment.

Mac looked around, immediately realizing his CSI wasn't anywhere here to be found. He sighed and looked at the floor where a pile of unopened mail waited to be read. "Be sure you wear your gloves," Mac said, getting the mail and moving further into the apartment.

"Mail's from yesterday and today," Flack said, looking over Mac's shoulder at the stamps. "Means he hasn't been here yesterday after work."

Mac looked at the stamps on the envelopes in his hands. "Stella, Lindsay, you go check the bedroom for any evidence or leads on where Danny might be. Flack and I are going to check the rest of the apartment."

The team split up, each carrying their kits to the room they were supposed to examine.

"Weird, isn't it?" Lindsay said, looking with her flashlight for anything unusual in Messer's bedroom.

"What is?" Stella asked, going through Danny's organizer.

"I mean, what if Danny's just out of town and forgot to tell us."

Stella smiled encouragingly at Lindsay, deep down inside hoping that her suggestion would prove to be the truth.

"Danny would never go out of town without telling Mac," she said with a sigh. "But if he did it might need some explanation as to why we're here."

Lindsay smiled. "There's nothing here," she said, closing her kit again. Stella nodded, following Lindsay's example. "Neither is here, Danny sure didn't use his organizer much, I wonder why he even had one. Let's see if Mac and Flack found something."

The two men already stood in the hallway outside the apartment, looking grimly at the unopened mail.

"We need to get back to the office," Mac said flatly. "See if we can get some fingerprints or DNA off these letters, that might help us to understand what happened."

Stella looked surprised at Mac. "You mean, we're not going to wait, I mean, Danny could be anywhere."

Mac looked at her. "There was plenty of food and drinks in his refrigerator, he sure wasn't planning on leaving, Stella," he said seriously to explain his moves.

Stella nodded and didn't object anymore.

Arriving at the office, Flack immediately offered to question people in the building, to see if they had seen anything unusual at the time of Danny's disappearance.

Lindsay and Stella agreed on investigating Danny's mail in more detail, while Mac would try to call Danny's cell for the thirtieth time that day.

CSI – Crime Scene Investigation

The door slammed again, heavy footsteps approaching the weary CSI, still weak and desperate for answers. Danny could hear the man was frustrated, his breaths were short and quick like he had run a mile before entering the room. Suddenly a hand got hold of his throat and tightened its grip within seconds, thereby closing off his trachea, making it harder for Danny to breathe.

Danny, surprised and caught off guard by this sudden action, hysterically tried to keep his breath under control, to keep it at normal speed. He didn't have time to clearly think about his moves, when he felt his normal breathing turning into hysterical gasps for air. The attacker laughed raucously, holding his tight grip on Danny's throat.

"Try all you want, you're not getting out of here, Messer" the attacker said with a heavy New York accent.

Danny's insides turned, hearing the perpetrator calling his name made him realize he probably knew the ones who were behind this.

"We're gonna have so much fun with you," the man continued. He let go of Danny's throat and got something from the floor. Danny coughed, thankfully filling his lungs with the cold air again, he felt his blood pumping at full speed.

"Brought you some food," the attacker said grumpy, violently forcing Danny with one hand to open his mouth, pushing his fingers in Danny's mouth to force him to open up. Danny, disgusted by the filthy fingers that tried to open his mouth tried with all his strength to keep his mouth close. "Dammit, Messer!" the man yelled, using more force to open Danny's mouth, but Danny beat him by forcefully biting his finger. He tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, realizing this probably wasn't a good plan.

But he sure as hell wasn't going to let the man feed him, not knowing what he would get for dinner. Although his body was screaming for water and food, he wouldn't want to risk the chance of being poisoned or drugged, how ridiculous that sounded to himself. If they had wanted to kill him, they'd probably not poison him, why bother, they probably had guns and knives all over the place.

Danny heard the man scream, pulling his hand away from Danny's mouth and dropping whatever he was holding in the other.

"What the fuck, you son of a bitch!" the man yelled at the top of his voice. "You asked for this, I'm not in the mood for games," he said threateningly, immediately followed by a hard blow in Danny's stomach.

Danny collapsed forward in agony as far as his body would go, feeling he overstretched his spine. Heavy pains almost caused Danny to throw up. He closed his eyes and tried to regain his strength.

"You gonna eat now?" the guy asked provocatively with the same angry voice. Danny, painful as it was, managed to sit up straight again, showing almost no sign of pain or emotion to his attacker and keeping his mouth closed.

The man sighed. "Fine! Starve to death if you like!" he finally yelled.

Danny heard the heavy footsteps leaving the room again, followed by the sound of the door being violently slammed shut.

He sighed, spitting out the blood. He leaned back in the chair, face up to the ceiling, trying to control his breathing again. Adrenaline was still pumping through his body. "Not a good move, Danny," he muttered to himself. "Definitely not a good move."

It wasn't long before the footsteps returned, only the breathing was slow and heavy this time and the footsteps weren't as loud as usual.

Danny sat up straight again, listening closely to the sounds. This clearly was another man entering the room. What happened next Danny only experienced in a blur. A cloth was suddenly firmly held to his face, covering his mouth and nose. He struggled to fight the firm grip of the attacker, but he was quickly overcome by the fumes from the cloth and all turned to black again.

CSI – Crime Scene Investigation

"Detective Taylor?" A young man with blonde hair stood in the door opening of Mac's glass office looking puzzled at him.

"You're Mac Taylor, right?" he asked again.

Mac, distracted from his work, irritably looked up to the unknown man. "Yes, that's me, who wants to know?"

The man hesitated. "There seems to be a parcel for you downstairs," he said slowly, trying to sound as professional as he could.

Mac looked at the man again, "A parcel? For me? From whom?" he asked directly.

"Er, I don't know, sir. It just got in with the afternoon mail, it's addressed to you so they ordered me to tell you," the man said uncomfortably.

Mac, without saying a word, immediately got up from his chair, quickly grabbed his jacket and a pair of gloves, leaving the man completely in the dark of what was going on.

"Sir?" he said, but Mac didn't reply, quickly exiting his office heading for the elevator.

Lindsay, who hadn't been able to fully concentrate on her work, saw Mac's odd behavior from the corner of her eye. Her thoughts were immediately with Danny. Putting her work down she exchanged a look with Stella, who also started to look worried.

"What do you suppose that's all about?" Lindsay asked. Stella shrugged her shoulders, leaving her work untouched for a moment.

"If it has something to do with Danny we'll hear it soon enough," she said, returning to her work.

Lindsay nodded, but couldn't get back to work. Her eyes were constantly drawn to elevator door Mac had just entered, her stomach filled with nerves of fear.

Mac had just got in the elevator and waited impatiently for it to reach ground level, his hands in his pockets and his gaze at the door, waiting for it to open at the right floor.

Usually it wasn't a busy hour at the office, but this time it seemed like everyone in the building suddenly wanted to take the elevator, making stops at almost every floor.

Mac nodded at a few people he knew who entered or exited the elevator, keeping a close watch on everybody he didn't know. A habit he had picked up while being a marine.

Finally they reached ground level and Mac hurried out of the elevator, looking for the mailroom where he could get the parcel.

He knew it had to be somewhere close. Mac never went to the mailroom, usually all mail was distributed, and brought to them by men like the blond guy he met just a minute ago. There had to be something special about this parcel, to send someone up to get him.

It took Mac only a few minutes to locate the mailroom, quickly entering it.

"Where's the parcel?" Mac said in a hasty voice to the first employee he laid eyes on. The man, clearly surprised by this uncommon visit from the CSI, kept silent but pointed at another man, probably head of the department, who stood just a few feet from him.

"Thanks," Mac said quickly without looking at the man again.

"Ah, Detective Taylor, there you are, William Blake, nice to meet you!" the man said happily when he saw Mac approaching him, grabbing his hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

William Blake was a man of about forty years of age, a little shorter than Mac and at least several inches wider.

"Been a long time since we've seen you 'round here," William said with a kind smile, but Mac wasn't up for happy chit-chats and kept silent with a serious look on his face.

It took Blake a while to understand why the CSI acted so coldly, when he remembered the strange package they received earlier.

"Ah, that's right," Blake said, nervously looking around, locating the parcel. "There's your parcel," he said, walking towards a box in the corner of the office. "I put it aside for you so it wouldn't get lost and all."

Blake was about to grab what looked like a normal cardboard box, when Mac suddenly stopped him, quickly walking to the chubby man and grabbing his arm, shaking his head.

"Let me," he said kindly, putting on his rubber gloves.

"Who of you touched this box?" Mac asked, looking around and seeing no one responding.

"Er, only me," Blake said in embarrassment, slightly raising his hand.

"Oh," Mac said blankly, "we're probably gonna need your prints, so you can follow me upstairs."

And with these words Mac left the mailroom again, followed by a slightly nervous William Blake who kept making funny noises with his hands.

"You can go there for prints," Mac said when they reached the fifth floor, pointing at one of the labs. "Just tell them it's an emergency, and that they need to send them to me as soon as possible."

Blake nodded, and quickly ran off, glad to be away from the slightly intimidating but intriguing CSI.

"Nothing! There's absolutely nothing." Flack walked up to Mac making slightly desperate gestures with his hands. "I don't get it," he said, "I've asked everyone who worked with him yesterday evening, but no one noticed anything strange or different."

Mac sighed and looked at Don Flack.

"I'm afraid we don't need the statements anymore," he said, showing Flack the box. "I have a feeling the content of this box might say more about Danny's whereabouts than any employee ever could."

Mac looked at Flack and ordered him with his eyes to follow him. Mac took the parcel into his office, where he put it on his desk.

Flack took a seat on one of the chairs in the office. Mac looked at the box for a while, trying wrap his head around it. It looked normal, the address was a printout and the stamps were normal. There was nothing suspicious about this parcel, at least not on the outside.

Mac wondered why they had called him down to accept it in person. He turned the box upside down, hearing several items rolling from one side to the other. Nothing on the bottom, he concluded.

"What is it?" Stella's voice sounded less worried than she actually was. She and Lindsay had decided to see what was going on and stood at the doorstep of Mac's office.

"I don't know," Mac said, "could you close the door, Lindsay?"

Stella took a step forward and Lindsay closed the door behind them, while Flack got up from the chair.

"There's only one way to find out," Mac said, getting a knife from one of the drawers in his desk. Flack and the two women moved closer, while Mac carefully cut the adhesive tape on top of the box, trying to minimize the damage, in case it was evidence he wouldn't destroy too much of it.

Mac put the knife aside and carefully opened the parcel, exposing whatever was inside of it. Mac took a step back in shock when he recognized the first and most obvious item in the box. There in the middle of the box it was, damaged but still very recognizable.

Both Stella and Flack, surprised by Mac's reaction, took a step forward to see what was in the box. Flack leaned over Mac's desk and gazed at the content of the box. Stella gasped, clutching Mac's shoulder in support. Flack slammed one hand on Mac's desk, starting to swear under his breath in reaction to the content of the box.

Lindsay, terrified by the reactions, didn't dare to look inside the box. "W….what is it?" she stammered, trying to read the answer in Mac's eyes. Mac didn't answer but took a deep breath, reaching into the box to grab the thing that shocked his team. Lindsay's eyes widened and she gasped when Mac showed her the severely damaged badge with Danny's number on it.

Mac took a close look at the badge, he knew the scratches he saw on it could only have been caused by a lot of force and friction, to either the badge alone or to the one who carried it. Knowing Danny always carried his badge on his jeans, he had either lost it, or someone had dragged a probably unconscious Danny several feet. The deepness of the scratches on the badge immediately made Mac realize they were caused by dragging, they were too deep.

Danny had to be in serious trouble.

Mac put the badge aside, realizing there was more in the box. He carefully got a letter from the bottom of the box. It was typed out and read:

_We got something you want, _

_You got something we want,_

_We make the trade or_

_We make the kill._

_It's up to you…_

Attached to the letter was an old yellowish newspaper article, which seemed to cover an old case, and two Polaroid pictures.

"W…w….what?" Lindsay said in shock, looking in horror at the two pictures Mac got from under the letter. She gasped, covering her mouth and stumbling backwards to the wall for support. Mac, who got the pictures from under the newspaper article, went quiet, all color leaving his face, his expression turning dark, looking at the two pictures. His eyes had to be cheating him, this couldn't be true. In the pictures he could clearly recognize the blonde Italian CSI, blindfolded and bound to a chair. His formerly white shirt, which he had been wearing the day before, was covered in blood. Although the resolution of the pictures was dreadfully low, Mac's observant eyes could recognize several undeveloped bruises that started to appear on Danny's face. He had been beaten up pretty bad, not to mention the state he was in right at this moment.

Stella, who hadn't reacted at first, stared in horror at the two pictures, her breath accelerating. She looked at Mac, who could see that, although she tried to act brave in front of Lindsay, her eyes were glistering with tears.

"Who could do such a thing?" she said in a hoarse voice. Mac shook his head, he didn't have an answer to that question, at least not yet.

He carefully put the things back in the box, except for the newspaper article. He looked at it for a moment, staring at the picture on top of the article, which showed the courthouse and a suspect being brought in. His mind was racing to identify the case, assuming that this might be the key.

"Mac?" Lindsay's voice could barely be heard. "What do you want us to do?" she asked.

Mac looked up from the article and stared at the young woman, who stood in front of him with a vacant expression on her face. He coughed, put the article aside and handed the letter to Lindsay. "I want you to find out everything there is to know about this letter. The ink, the paper, the computer that might have been used, anything that might help us."

Lindsay got some gloves from a box on Mac's desk, and took the letter from her boss.

"Stella, I want you to examine these pictures. Try to find out where they might have been taken, look at the state the building is in. Maybe you can come up with an architectural era in which the building could have been made, that would really help," Mac continued.

"Flack, could you.."

"Go downstairs and see if anyone knows who brought this parcel here," Flack finished Mac's sentence. Mac smiled and nodded.

"I'm on it," Flack said, grabbing his jacket to exit the glass office.

"Flack?"

Don looked at Mac, "Yes?"

"Could you please contact Sheldon, he's supposed to be at a crime scene near Central Park. I need every pair of hands we can find, he needs to be on this case," Mac said in a concerned voice.

Flack nodded, grabbed his cell from his pocket and left the office, already dialing Sheldon's number.

Stella surveyed Mac, who stared at the article.

"We're going to find him, Mac," she said encouragingly. "One way or another, we are going to find him, they are not getting away with this."

Mac nodded, handing her the picture. "This look familiar to you?" he asked.

Stella took a close look at the article, but she couldn't find anything that meant anything to her.

"Here," Mac said, pointing at a sentence in the middle of the article. "You sure as hell remember that, don't you?"

Stella's eyes followed Mac's finger and she read:

"_Yesterday afternoon the New York court convicted a member of one of the new gangs of New York, the so-called Tanglewood boys. Sonny Sassone, who is said to be one of the leading members of the Tanglewood boys, was convicted for the murder of young Paul Montenassi."_

Stella looked back at Mac with a puzzled look. "Do you think this means.."

Mac took the article back from Stella. "I don't know what it means yet," he said. "All I know is that I'm going to pay mister Sassone a little visit, hopefully he knows a bit more about all this."

Stella nodded. "I'm going to work," she said, carefully getting the pictures from Mac's desk. "The sooner we get these guys the better."

Lindsay got the letter from the desk and followed Stella out the office. Mac smiled, glad that his team was so determined.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"So you really don't know who brought it to you?" Flack's voice sounded loud and clear in the overly quiet mailroom, everyone was staring in shock at the yelling detective who had suddenly entered their office. His hands in his side and a dark expression on his face made it very clear that he was not to be messed with, at least not today.

"Well, someone took it in here right? Who?" he snapped at William Blake.

Blake, who had only just returned to his office, was still trying to figure out what caused the CSI's of the sixth floor to act so oddly.

"Well, it just was here.." Blake tried to explain "No one brought it in here, someone suddenly noticed it and notified me."

Flack raised one eyebrow looking at the overweight man who started to sweat slightly.

"At what time was that?" he mumbled under his breath, trying to prevent himself from yelling at the man in front of him again.

"I….don't know detective..something around….er..two PM maybe?" he stammered. Flack rolled his eyes, quickly gave Blake his card and mumbled: "Call me as soon as you remember things a bit better, ok?" Blake got the card and looked at an angry Don Flack exiting the mailroom without saying a word of goodbye.

"Stupid people" Flack muttered when he arrived at the elevator waiting to go up to the sixth floor again to notify Mac. "Who's stupid?" a voice next to him said. Flack looked aside and stared into the deep brown eyes of his colleague Hawkes.

"Aah, it's just me" Flack said to justify his behavior "A little frustrated about the whole situation."

Sheldon nodded looking at the files in his hand, which he had just picked up from the archives. "I heard that there is not much to go on." Don shook his head "No there isn't" he said bitterly "Just some pictures and a newspaper article. I bet Lindsay couldn't find anything on that box and letter, people like that know better than to leave trace behind." Sheldon sighed, knowing that Flack was probably right.

The elevator arrived and they both got in, Flack pressed the button for the sixth floor, waiting for the doors to close.

"You were quite close with Messer weren't you?" Hawkes suddenly asked out of the blue. Flack didn't reply but stared at the door, he nodded quietly.

"I figured, since…"

"Messer's gonna be fine" Flack interrupted "I know him, he's tough, he won't let them mess with 'em."

Sheldon nodded in agreement. Even though he never had one normal conversation with the missing CSI outside of work, he knew perfectly well what kind of guy Messer was. He was the kind of guy that always got into trouble, but surprisingly enough found a way to get out of it. Sheldon smiled at the thought of brave but silly Danny, he knew Danny would be fine, at least as long as he had some control over the situation.

They both kept quiet for the rest of the ride until the elevator reached the sixth floor.

"I'll go check with Lindsay" Hawkes said "See if she needs some help."

Flack smiled "You go do that…"

Hawkes handed the files over to Flack "Would you give these to Mac? Thanks!" he said without waiting for Flack's answer and left for one of the labs.

Flack, a little flabbergasted by Sheldon's assumption that he was willing to be someone's errand-boy, looked at the files in his hands. Why would Mac need old files for this case. Flack, curious as he was, carefully opened one of the files and took a look inside. "Ah.." he said quickly closing the file again, ready to go find Mac Taylor to report he didn't have any new information concerning the box.

CSI – Crime Scene Investigation

Prison. There was something about this place that wasn't natural. The smell was obviously far from natural. Putting over hundred people into one building, with the opportunity of spending only a few hours in the open, would cause weird scents to occur within days. Add to that the average unhealthy and mostly unclean inhabitant of any jail and the mixture will make your nostrils thrill with the uncommon and unnatural smell.

But more than that, detective Mac Taylor hated the crew of the average New York prison, who usually weren't too keen on helping him out with other cases. Today on the other hand was different. A friendly lady had asked Mac what his business was at the prison, and when he told her about the whole case she reacted very understanding and kind, immediately letting him enter the building and arranging a meeting with Sassone.

Mac looked at his hands while waiting for Sassone to appear on the other side of the glass. Next to him was an old and weary looking housewife, still wearing what seemed to be her working clothes covered with stains. She was sobbing, listening to the words the person on the other side of the glass said to her. She held a hanky in one hand when her other hand was trying to hold the heavy phone to her ear. Her whole body was trembling as she cried.

Mac looked to the glass wall in front of him again. He noticed several inmates looking at him in disgust as they passed. Mac smiled on the inside, remembering each of their faces, glad to see them punished for the crimes they committed, to see them excluded from American society.

A dark haired man in an orange suit irritably sat down opposite to Mac Taylor. The two of them stared at each other for a moment. It had been a while since Sonny Sassone and Mac Taylor had met, and it hadn't been a very pleasurable meeting. Mac remembered just a little too well the remarks this man had made, not only concerning the case of Paul Montenassi but also about Danny.

Mac sighed, getting the phone of the hook and looking directly at Sassone, who reluctantly got the phone on the other side of the glass.

"Eh, detective, been a long time.." Sassone started "still hangin' around?"

Mac kept quiet looking at the overly self confident man sitting opposite of him. He leaned forward, staring right into the eyes of Sassone. "You know why I am here. I'm sure they told you." Mac said determined.

Sassone chuckled, "Yeah, somethin' about that Messer. What's that gotta do with me?"

Mac leaned back, reaching for his jacket pocket grabbing the yellowish newspaper article and holding it to the glass for Sassone to read.

"That's why" Mac snapped.

Sonny Sassone leaned forward, a smile appeared on his face. "Ah, my fifteen minutes of fame in the paper. Still don't know why that's gonna connect me with Danny Messer." Sassone said laconic.

"Let me read it out for you, since you like playing dumb" Mac said "Your pals are trying to get us to trade you for Danny."

Sassone smiled and silently started to laugh. "Ah, now I see" he said "Still don't know what you're doin' here, xcept for takin' me out of this hole ofcourse."

Mac narrowed his eyes, silently surveying the man opposite of him, realizing he probably wouldn't get any answers here.

"You know where they are." He said "You know about this, where they keep him, what they did and what they're gonna do."

Sassone smiled evilly at Mac, but kept quiet. Mac leaned back, slowly putting the phone back. The self-complacent Sassone smiled, knowing he had the CSI exactly where he wanted him: frustrated, angry and completely in the dark.

CSI – Crime Scene Investigation

Muffled voices, somewhere far away were the first thing Danny noticed when he slowly woke up again. The cloth which they had held to Danny's face had been drenched in chloroform, causing him to lose consciousness within seconds. Danny had recognized the specific nice scent and the sweet taste of the chemical, immediately realizing he was going down soon. Chloroform was a very commonly used tool to overpower someone. Danny had seen it so many times. When a cloth was held over the mouth of the victim, they would struggle for a few seconds before slumping unconscious. A dangerous method to knock somebody out, the perpetrator usually needed a great amount of Chloroform to knock somebody out in a short period of time. Dangerous because the amount of Chloroform needed was almost as much as an overdoses, which would be lethal to the victim.

Danny breathed heavily feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. He had been very lucky to still be alive. His attackers must have been either panicked by something or they couldn't care less what happened to the young CSI.

Danny, who felt his headache had returned, slowly tried to open his eyes, feeling an aching pain in his stomach, the man had probably caused some minor internal bleedings with his fast hit.

This is probably not my lucky day, Danny thought, getting knocked out twice a day any normal person would have been out for days.

Danny slowly retrieved his strengths, and although his mind was slowly waking up, he had difficulties making his body respond. With great effort he succeeded in slowly opening his eyes. Closing them again, but only for a second, for he realized the blindfold was gone. Although it was dark, he knew he had looked at, what looked like, a concrete ceiling. He had been moved, he was not sitting in a chair anymore, but in fact lying on his back on something that felt like a rug.

Danny moaned feeling rope cutting into the flesh of his wrists. His hands were in front of him, instead of behind his back. The cuffs had been replaced by ropes, which seemed very illogical to Danny, but than again nothing about his situation made any sense. The ropes had been bound tight, making it hard for Danny to move his wrists. The ropes did, however, give him the opportunity, the possibility to try to free his hands.

Danny sighed looking at the blurred ceiling above him, he wasn't wearing his glasses. They probably broke or he had lost them somewhere between getting knocked out and arriving here, anyway it was he didn't have a good look at the things around him, everything was blurry. The one thing Danny noticed immediately was that it had turned dark, it was probably after six PM and the temperatures were dropping rapidly. He tried to sit up, feeling painful aches all over his body when his muscles tightened, trying to move. He moaned in agony and fell back on the rug. He breathed heavily, still coughing raucously. He moved his arms up in order to check his watch. With the light almost gone he could barely read the time, but with much effort he could conclude that it was six thirty PM, meaning that his shift would have been over by now.

Danny sighed, breathing out white clouds. His colleagues had to know he had left by now, although there was a slight chance they thought he might have left for a few days. Danny shook his head lightly, knowing his team, they would have raised the alarm already at noon. But what chance would they have, if he didn't even have a clue where he was, how would his team ever going to find him?

Slowly the memories of the day before returned, Danny had run over that day several times, trying to understand what went wrong.

In the morning he had went to the office just like any other day, nothing special, nothing suspicious. He had taken the eight AM subway to work. Normally the subway was crowded with people, all flocking together to go to work in downtown Manhattan, but yesterday it was abnormally quiet. Danny, who was usually not very early at the subway station, had even managed to find himself a seat.

Danny remembered he had read a newspaper and had watched a girl who sat a few seats away from him. Slightly flirting, making eye-contact and smiling at each other. Could she have anything to do with it? She had looked fairly normal. Long curly hair and a freckled face, a pair of jeans and a blouse, nothing special and definitely nothing that looked criminal. But than again, Danny knew criminals usually looked like everyone else. Assimilating seemed like a second nature for criminals, never afraid to change their looks to blend in.

The rest of the day hadn't been very different from any other workday. Arriving at the office he had discussed some sports game of last weekend with Flack. He and Lindsay had worked on a new case, which had been very interesting, concerning a college student found dead in one of the classrooms. The both of them had gone to the University to check the crime scene, finding several pieces of trace, but nothing special. Lindsay had been very observant, noticing the weird position the feet of the student had. Danny still had to get used to the girl from Montana, finding her a bit intimidating every now and then.

Returning from the crime scene, both Lindsay and him had done some tests before heading home again. Danny had informed Mac on their progress in the case, hoping he would get some kind of compliment, but Mac had only smiled and nodded.

When he had finally left the office, the sky over New York City had turned to dark, and it had started freezing again.

Danny remembered wanting to get home as fast as possible, taking the first cab he could get his hands on. He preferred the warmth of the cab over the cold but cheaper subway.

Danny sighed, his eyes were already adjusted to the dark in his new room. He didn't remember anything what happened after he had gotten in the cab. The only thing he slightly remembered was a hard blow on his head from behind. The headaches he was having now were a living proof of his memory being correct about that.


End file.
